"Well." The word is sharp, accented by a firm grab of her hip, his fingers sinking roughly into her flesh pressed against the grass. His gaze is devious as it lingers on her face, and he gives a playful tug towards him.

"E'en if I were a fuckin' pillow-biter, he wouldn't be my type. Neither of 'em. But 'specially not any cunt that'd treat ya like that." Sweeney nips at her lip.

"Guessin' they just wanna show ya that Godric was wrong in choosin' you. That he shouldn't be bound ta you. Which is fuckin' bollocks." Even Sweeney wouldn't say that in opposite, and he has plenty of valid reason to hate Godric.

"Just wantin' ya ta give him up so they can have what he's givin' ta you."